Worth The Wait
by ReneyyySprouse
Summary: Paul Levesque could never stand Shawn Michaels. There was something about his character that always got under his skin. But after a visit of perceived reality from a more than familiar face, will this budding star's opinion of the Heartbreak Kid change?
1. Are You Ready?

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A/N: Hey guys, this is my first attempt at a WWE story. It was originally meant to be a one-shot, but after Shawn decided to leave and absolutely rip all our hearts out, I came up with a second chapter and decided it was time to actually write it. Just as a warning, it may get a little confusing in the middle, bit I think it's easy enough to understand. I hope, anyway. Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter One - Are You Ready?**

* * *

**November, 1992.**

After fumbling with his key in the lock for God knows how long, a twenty-three year old Paul Levesque finally stumbled his way into his small apartment. Shaking his head at the rickety door, he slammed it back into place and dumped his bag on the floor before slumping down into his lounge.

Paul felt the stiffness of all of his muscles, tendons and aching bones relax under the slight comfort that the dodgy, old couch had to offer as he allowed a stifling groan to escape his lips. Even amongst every single twinge of dull, throbbing pain that he sensed consuming his body, an overjoyed smile crept across Paul's face.

Reaching into his pocket, Paul retrieved a white envelope and unsealed it, his beaming grin growing even wider at the twenty-five dollars he revealed from it. So what if he had been promised fifty? The point of the matter was that on this particular cool, Spring evening, Paul had been paid for his first ever wrestling gig. 'Terra Ryzing' was no longer just a figment of his imagination. He was a _professional wrestler_.

All the memories from those mere few hours beforehand suddenly began flooding back to Paul's mind. The boos that had erupted from the crowd when he marched out confidently into the gym, the first glimpse he had taken at the ring that sat perfectly centred just metres in front of him, having located where the camera was situated so he could purposely talk smack towards it - it was those recollections that Paul was certain would last a lifetime.

Just before Paul allowed himself to get too carried away in his own thoughts, he checked his watch to find that it was about twenty-five minutes past eight. Monday night RAW was on. He eagerly reached over and grabbed the television remote and then, stuffing his pay back into the depths of his pocket, Paul flicked his lengthy, blonde hair out of his eyes and settled down into the cushions on his lounge ready to enjoy a good two hours of the live sporting-variety show that had became the main source of inspiration in his life. Much to his disappointment, however, as soon as the T.V. flicked on, Paul felt the elated expression drop from his face.

"_I __**am**__ the Showstopper!"_

Paul snorted in resentment. Shawn Michaels. The one downside, as Paul declared, to the great world of professional wrestling.

The Heartbreak Kid smiled smugly at the few boos heard amongst the crowd as he slicked back his long, blonde mullet and took a few seconds to admire his reflection in the camera lens before opening his mouth to speak again.

"_And I'm coming after you, Hitman! I've proven that I can do absolutely anything on my own. I don't need Marty Jannetty or any other tag team partner. __**Ever**__."_

Paul rolled his eyes and instantly hit the 'mute' button on the remote control. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was a big ego. It didn't matter to him whether you were a baby-face or a heel - as far as Paul was concerned, having a big attitude and an even bigger mouth was nothing to be proud of. And nobody got under his skin more so than Shawn Michaels.

"Showboating son of a…" Paul began to muse to himself before being interrupted by a long, worn out yawn that exploded from the back of his throat. He rubbed his weary, deep brown eyes, only now, after all of his initial excitement had faded, realising how drained and exhausted he really was.

Kicking off his shoes, Paul spread out on his couch and briefly fluffed the pillow that was sitting under his head. He shot one final glance at the noiseless television, only imagining what Shawn was possibly rambling on about. Closing his eyes to rest them, he then impulsively began to envision what chaos and turmoil 'Terra Ryzing' would be able to cause for the self-proclaimed Sexy Boy if he were ever given the honour of having the opportunity - this being the last thought that wandered across his mind before he slowly fell into a deep, peaceful sleep…

* * *

The immense heat streaming down from the bright lights above him intensified the emotions of glory that Terra Ryzing felt coursing through his veins. He stood tall and proud in the centre of the squared-circle with his arms held high above his head, taking in all the cheers and praise that exploded from the WWF Universe. It was everything that he had ever wanted - bouncing slightly on the creaky old canvas, surrounded by the tri-coloured ring ropes and hearing the screams from the five-thousand strong crowd around him. It was all a dream come true.

All of a sudden, something abruptly put that dream on hold.

"No, no, no!"

Paul shot his head up in the direction of where he heard a deep, agitated voice boom from the top of the ramp. Standing there was a large, tall man with long, blonde hair who was dressed in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and a leather jacket. A chunk of nerves caught in Paul's throat when he spotted the threatening sledgehammer that the man was wielding in his right hand.

"Nope, this is not how we're doing things," the man continued.

Paul's brown eyes widened as out of the blue he realised that there were now many other wrestlers and workmen hanging around the arena, although, there wasn't a single one that he recognised.

"First of all, we're going to need a bigger arena, not a piss-weak one like this!"

Paul gasped in shock when in the blink of an eye the stadium he was standing in suddenly expanded beyond all belief, as did the crowd, which now seemed to contain about twenty-thousand screaming fans - at the bare minimum.

The large stranger grinned in delight, "And would it kill anyone to make this ramp a little longer? Anything to help those of us who take fifty-million years to get to the ring, Orton!"

Paul looked over to where another man stood who was wearing black trunks and had intricate tattoos inked all across his shoulder blades, "Speak for yourself, Helmsley!" the second man spat back in sniping accusation.

Shaking his head in utter bewilderment, Paul gazed back up and froze for a moment as he noticed the first man who was making all the changes around him approach menacingly closer down the now longer ramp. He heaved his sledgehammer up over his shoulder and pressed down hard on the ring canvas, chuckling in disbelief.

"Come on people! It's the twenty-first century!"

"Uh, no it's not. Not quite yet, Mr. Helmsley," a small worker with a head set and a clip board replied nervously to the beefy man.

Bringing his hammer down to the ground so he could lean against it, the leather clad tough guy cast his gaze downward to the much smaller man, "Yeah, well, where I've come from it is. Besides, do you really think you're in any position to question the two-hundred and fifty-five pounder with the sledgehammer?"

The undersized maintenance worker gulped timidly and immediately shook his head, "No, of course, Mr. King of Kings, sir. Right, twenty-first century, starting with…?"

"I think the ring needs a bit of an update. Bigger T.V. screens, pyros, lighting, sound - just fix everything, ok?"

Scribbling down the notes on his clip board, the workman nodded before quickly scurrying away, "On it, sir."

The larger man smiled again, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Paul simply remained motionless in place, watching awe-struck at the unbelievable technological updates being made all around him. It was purely amazing.

It was then that the unfamiliar man before him spun around on his heels to face him, his intimidating stare landing on the slightly smaller frame of Paul Levesque. Paul hastily felt his heart come to a complete stop. The man definitely looked extremely daunting, but that wasn't the only reason why Paul had lost all sense his voice box. It suddenly dawned on him that staring at this absolute stranger was nothing short of fixing his vision on his own reflection. A larger, taller reflection. With much more facial hair.

In the next instant, the bigger man beamed a goofy grin at Paul, "Hey younger me!"

Choking his regular breathing pattern back to life, Paul apprehensively backed into one of the ring's turnbuckles, "What?" he barked in surprise, "Younger you? Who are you, what are you talking about?!"

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy man," the sledgehammer handler urged, "This is all just a dream. _Your_ dream. I thought I'd make an appearance to check out what's going on. Come on, don't you recognise me?"

Paul raised his brow in further confusion, if that were even possible. The man before him simply held his cheesy smirk awaiting a reply from his so-called 'younger self'. A wave of hesitation impulsively swept over Paul. The argument given that this whole situation - the arena, the fans, the other wrestlers and workmen - was a dream was certainly believable. But Paul's future self coming back to see him in the flesh? That was the sceptical part.

Paul swallowed tensely, "What's with the beard?"

The future Paul stroked his chin proudly as he climbed up onto the ring apron and stepped in between the top and middle ropes, "All a part of the image. Speaking of which, this is for you," he went on, handing the sledgehammer to Paul, "This is Sledgie, take good care of her, she'll be one of the best friends you'll ever have."

Paul took a hold of the hammer and studied it in uncertainty, trying his best to ignore the dim blood stains that speckled the top of it.

"Anyways," the larger Paul began, "there actually was something I wanted to talk to you about -"

"Wait, what image?" Paul interjected, "What are you talking about?"

"Hey! No interrupting - I'd listen to me if I were you!… which I sorta' am, so listen!"

Paul sighed in defeat, "Ok, fine, uh… Paul?"

"Call me Hunter," the bearded man replied.

Paul cocked his eyebrow again, "Hunter?"

"Just go with it," Hunter advised, stepping closer towards Paul, "Now, back to business. Don't think I don't know what you said!"

Paul gulped at Hunter's sudden change in demeanour.

"First off, it's Show_stopper_, not show_boater_! And secondly, nobody can talk about him like that except for me!… man, I need a new hypothetical."

Ignoring Hunter's blatant sarcasm, Paul's eyes suddenly narrowed in realisation of what, or rather, _who_ his future self was referring to, "Wait, you're talking about Michaels?" he asked with a roar of laughter, "Oh, please! He thinks way too highly of himself. I'd love nothing more than to give Terra Ryzing the chance to sort him out!"

Hunter rolled his eyes, "Oh yeah, congrats on your first gig, by the way."

Paul fell back to silence for a brief second as he tried to figure out how Hunter possibly could have known about his first ever match. Then it came to him. This was his future self he was dealing with - everything that had happened up until that point in Paul's life, Hunter had already lived it. Or so he claimed.

Still feeling slightly nerved at the particular circumstances, Paul locked an anxious gaze on Hunter, "Where did you come from, anyway?"

"Oh, about the year 2009," Hunter replied, cynically checking the face of his watch, "Figured I'd break away for my prep for this pay-per-view I'm fighting in next month."

Paul's eyes rapidly widened in wonder, "Pay-per-view? As in the World Wrestling Feder -"

"Uh, uh, uh!" Hunter cut in, "We don't call it that anymore. It's World Wrestling _Entertainment_."

"Entertainment?" Paul repeated.

Hunter nodded in confirmation, "WWE."

"So I really make it that big?" Paul's jaw gaped as Hunter nodded once again, "Wow," he went on, the tone of his voice coated in total astonishment. The smaller man then frowned, "But I still don't see what this has to do with Michaels?"

Hunter slicked his long hair back between his fingers, seemingly hesitating for a second or two, before allowing a sigh to emit from his lips, "What would you say if I told you that you and Shawn are one of the most prestigious and influential tag teams in the history of the business?"

"What?" Paul spat, his mouth still ajar, "That's ridiculous! Why on Earth would someone like Shawn Michaels ever do a storyline with someone like me?"

Paul furrowed his brow as Hunter merely burst into an array of laughter, "It's more than just a storyline, kid. He's not just your partner in the ring - he's your best friend out of the ring. He's been there since day one."

Hunter waited as he sensed his words gush through Paul's brain. After a minute or two, however, the twenty-three year old defiantly shook his head, obviously reluctant to believe the stories from the future he had been told.

"Yeah right," he argued, "This whole dream is probably just my subconscious acting up for insulting the selfish prick, or something, right?"

Hunter didn't reply. The older man only sighed again, slowly willing himself to admit defeat, "Fine. Believe what you want. The only reason I came here was to warn you that you're never going to get anywhere in the business unless you change your attitude towards him."

Paul remained completely quiet as Hunter turned around and half-heartedly stepped back out onto the ring apron.

"And FYI," he recommenced, "You sought after him, first."

Paul's head impulsively shot back up to meet Hunter's piercing gaze, though, the intense coercion immediately caused him to direct his vision back to the floor. It was then that his awareness was retargeted to the sledgehammer that he almost totally forgot he was holding. All the changes being made around him where still in full swing, as well. The ring where he stood seemed sturdier, the three ropes surrounding him were all a solid red, rather than the three colours they had previously been, and most notably, every single piece of technology around him was increased to an advancement beyond all that he saw ever before in any WWE arena. And while that was enough to take in as it was, as he gripped Sledgie tighter in his grasp, the thought of the further physical and emotional changes still to come continued to gnaw at him on the inside.

Him and Shawn. Shawn and him. The whole idea still seemed entirely inconceivable. While the smug, self-righteous Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels may have just been a character in a WWE script, even now Paul couldn't possibly begin to picture having to work with him day in and day out. It would drive him completely insane, he was sure of it. He may not have been told by Hunter what year he started in the WWE exactly, but as Paul saw things, he could start tomorrow and there would be, what, seventeen years spent with HBK as it stood? None of it made sense.

Shyly casting his stare back upwards, Paul watched blankly as Hunter continued on his way up the long ramp headed backstage.

"Good luck next month, Triple H."

Hunter shifted his vision to his right to find the maintenance worker with the clipboard standing off the ramp looking up at him.

Paul frowned again, "Triple H?"

Hunter turned back and heaved his broad shoulders up and down in a shrug, "Shawn's idea. He thought my full name was too much of a mouthful."

"I hope you two win your match for the Unified Tag Team championships," the small workman added.

"What?" Paul unexpectedly called out. Hunter smiled at the curiosity he could perceive leaking from the younger wrestler's voice. "That's the pay-per-view match you were talking about?" Paul went on. As Hunter once again signalled his affirmation, Paul instantly felt a sense of wavering take control of his whole being.

He cautiously licked his lips, "Ok, let's say I believe you. Are you and Mich- _Shawn_ scripted to win?"

A broad smile of success stretched across Hunter's face, "Sorry. You'll have to wait seventeen years and find out for yourself."

There was an abrupt pause. Paul let out a snigger of annoyance, "You're kidding, right?"

Stuffing his hands into the depths of his leather lined pockets, Hunter mischievously shook his head, "Don't worry, kid. Win or lose, it's worth the wait."

Paul immediately opened his mouth to retort with an argument, but in what seemed like the blink of an eye, Hunter disappeared out of thin air, and Terra Ryzing was hastily cut off by an almighty explosion of pyrotechnics from where Triple H had been standing…

* * *

The ear-splitting sound instantly caused Paul's deep, brown eyes to shoot open in shock. His breathing heavy, he allowed his vision to dart around and find that he was back in the confines of his apartment.

The television remote was still firmly in his grip, just like he could've sworn Sledgie had been a mere second or two beforehand. His heart gradually regaining it's regular pace, Paul sat up and pushed his hair back out of his face, adjusting his eyesight to the bright light of the T.V. that glowed back at him from the centre of the room. There was about five or ten minutes of Monday night RAW still to go, and the first thing Paul saw was none other than HBK standing over a battered and bruised Bret Hart, holding his WWF championship high in the air.

In a split second, Paul juggled the remote between his fingers and hit the 'mute' button again to bring the television's volume back to life.

"_It's gonna' be the exact same story at Survivor Series, Hart! There's no way in hell you're getting a hold of the WWF championship, and the Heartbreak Kid will be there standing tall to prove it to you! __**All by himself**__."_

The sounds of the crowd booing were rapidly shut down by Paul as he turned the T.V. volume down and slumped back into the lounge.

Everything that he had just experienced with Hunter had obviously in fact been a dream - that Paul could confirm for sure. But whether or not that dream held any actual reality in what was to happen in his future, he couldn't even begin to estimate.

Paul looked back up to the noiseless image on the T.V. screen. Much like normal, Shawn was doing some stupid little dance, assumedly to his own theme music, and was still checking himself out - now in the reflection of his title belt. If this were any other situation, Paul would be shaking his head in disproval and changing the channel. But instead, he simply sat frozen in place studying the illustration of the man before him.

It may have only been a scripted storyline, but the thought of teaming up with Shawn even when the words that he had spoken about being an individual and not needing a tag team partner still slapped Paul in the face pretty hard.

The very last thing that Hunter had spoken to his younger self was that whatever was to happen was certainly "worth the wait", but as Paul snapped back to reality and stubbornly shut the television off, he defiantly decided that no matter what his future truly held for him, he wasn't going to hold his breath.

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**A/N: So, what did we think? Again, I hope the two different time placed H's were easy enough to understand.**

**Also, about the only actual piece of non-factual info I included here is the whole Paul not liking Shawn thing. I suppose he actually did in real life, I mean, who doesn't, right? All the fun facts and information in here came directly from the boys' book _The Unauthorised History of D-Generation X, _Hunter's DVD _The King of Kings, There is only One _and good 'ol Wikipedia.**

**Let me know what you guys all thought and whether or not I should continue. Thanks guys :)**

**Reneyyyyyyyy x.**


	2. The Way The Ball Bounces

**Chapter Two - The Way The Ball Bounces.**

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_Paul took a deep breath and inched closer to where he could see Shawn Michaels sitting alongside Kevin Nash. It was now or never._

"_I don't want to interfere with what you guys are doing, but my name is Paul Levesque. I talked to Terry Taylor and he said you are the guys to hang out with. So if you don't mind, I'd like to hang out and travel with you."_

_Watching with his breath still held in, Shawn glanced up at Kevin, before he fixed his vision on Paul, and smiled._

_

* * *

_

**December, 2009.**

Chris Jericho's eyes widened as the crowd went ballistic at the sight of D-Generation X standing in the ring before him, smiling. It wasn't exactly the most comforting feeling in the world to see the two degenerates in such a close proximity when he sat precariously upon the Big Show's shoulders nearly thirteen feet up in the air. He stole one final gaze at the Unified Tag Team Championship belts hanging just a few inches above his head, and then in the next instant, felt himself plummeting to the concrete floor below as Shawn Michaels Super-Kicked Big Show right in the jaw, sending him off balance. Triple H grinned at the stumbling giant and then kicked him the stomach before performing a pinpoint accurate Pedigree, with the added help of the Heartbreak Kid.

With the crowd still screaming the roof off of the San Antonio stadium, Paul and Shawn then rolled Big Show out of the ring under the bottom rope to join Jericho. That was the easy part. The tag-team partners looked at each other, then at the belts hanging above the ring, and finally at the broken ladder that sat in the centre of the canvas.

The Cerebral Assassin immediately felt the cogs in his brain set to work. Without another second's thought, he snatched up one half of the snapped ladder and planted it firmly into the canvas, holding it upright directly underneath the championship belts.

Shawn tilted his head to the side for a moment and glanced at Paul. The younger man gestured his head upwards and sternly spoke, "Go."

Shawn remained frozen for a second or two, in all honesty a little reluctant to take the credit for what looked to be a certain win for DX, but none the less, he soon set to work carefully climbing up the rungs of the ladder as Paul faultlessly held his friend's weight while he climbed.

The increasing sound of the twelve thousand, or so, people around him rapidly began to catch up to Shawn as he sensed a bead of sweat roll down his face. He could faintly hear the voices of Jerry 'The King' Lawler, Michael Cole and Matt Striker on commentary at ringside anticipating his short climb to the top of the ladder. But to Shawn, the ascent felt like it would take a lifetime.

Paul held his breath and felt the veins in his biceps start to ripple just as Shawn made it to the top of the ladder. The chants of 'D-X!' roaring from the crowd soon meshed into indefinable screams as the belts were finally unhooked from above the ring and grasped securely in the hands of HBK. A wide grin of pride and accomplishment immediately beamed across Paul's face as he looked up to see his best friend holding the Unified Tag Team Championships high above his head, their theme song booming in the background.

"They've done it!" King exclaimed.

"There you have it folks!" Striker cut in, "After all the tables, ladders and chairs, Triple H and Shawn Michaels – DX are your new Unified Tag Team Champions!"

The second that Shawn was safely back down on the ground, Paul threw the ladder out of the ring and the two partners collected each other in a hug. Neither of them had absolutely any idea how good it was going to feel to become Tag Champs for the first time. The emotion was nothing they were expecting. It was completely indescribable.

After a few seconds, the two parted and Shawn handed one of the belts to Paul, "We did it, buddy!" he shouted over the hysterical cries still teeming from the arena, "Worth the wait?"

Paul couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He knew full well what Shawn meant – the two of them had been waiting twelve years for this moment, that is, to finally be crowned as the Tag Champions. But Paul's reference was a little different.

Unbeknownst to Shawn, not to mention every single other person in his life, Paul had been waiting a further five years just for this night in general. Ever since the crazy dream he had experienced all those years ago as a twenty-three year old debutant, Paul had been waiting on a knife's edge just to see if he was even going to meet Shawn in the first place, let alone team up with him. And only once he did, and it was proven to him that all of his original opinions of the Heartbreak Kid were so far off the person he truly was, Paul realised that having the privilege of gaining a friendship with someone as amazing as Shawn was genuinely the greatest moment he ever could have waited for.

"Yeah, Shawn," Paul agreed, "Definitely worth it."

With that said, the two threw their belts over their shoulders and then crossed their arms, commemorating the moment with a DX high-five, before climbing to the top rope and celebrating with the DX Army.

All around the huge arena, chants of 'D-X! D-X!' could be heard, except for the few who chose to play favourites and were instead screaming either 'H-B-K!' or 'TRI-PLE-H!'

* * *

_"What do you want to be called? Paul? Hunter?"_

_Paul looked up at Shawn and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not sure."_

_"Well, how about Triple H?"_

_

* * *

_

In a few minutes, the two degenerates soon found themselves backstage in their dressing room, relaxing and taking a well-deserved post-match warm down.

With a huge smile still extremely apparent across his face, Paul walked over to his and Shawn's freezer bags and grabbed an ice pack for each of them.

"Man, that was_ so_ sweet!" he yelled, the excitement still pouring from his voice, as he planted a kiss on one of his two belts before gently placing them down on the bench that sat in the centre of the small room.

Shawn simply gazed at his in silence and forced a small grin of pride. Taking the ice pack that The Game had tossed to him, Shawn then placed it firmly against his lower back, wincing slightly.

"Ya' back alright?" Paul asked in concern.

Shawn quickly gawked up the younger man, but shot his vision back to the floor, "Yeah, it's fine."

Paul froze for a minute and narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "What's up, man?"

"Nothing, why?" Shawn instantly replied, still barely facing his friend.

"Because you're sitting there on your arse in total silence when we should be out celebrating. Perhaps a couple of celebratory drinks…?"

"Hunter!"

"Kidding!" Paul snapped back with a laugh. Not wanting to encourage The Game any further, Shawn let a subtle smile cross his lips.

"But seriously, Shawn, something on your mind?"

There was a moment or two of a prolonged hush as Shawn eventually allowed his eyes to lock with Paul's. A mass of hesitation clouded his mind, and being face to face with his best friend of fourteen years certainly wasn't helping him form the words that he needed to say.

"Well… there actually is something I gotta' talk you about," Shawn confessed, "You really wanna' know?"

Paul frowned and took a seat next to Shawn, placing his ice pack against his quad, "Of course, man."

Paul waited for a second longer as Shawn made some further deliberation in his mind, and then sighed, "I got my match for 'Mania."

Paul's eyes widened, "That's awesome! Wait, lemme' guess," he announced, jumping off the bench, "For the first time ever in their history, competing on the Grandest Stage of Them All will be none other than The Heartbreak Kid; Shawn Michaels, The Game; Triple H – D-Generation X!"

Shawn cracked another small smile at Paul's over the top gestures and dramatisation, "As sweet as that would be, bud, that's not exactly it."

Paul's expression dropped as Shawn's reverted back to a demeanor of pure angst and nerves, "Well come on then, spill. How bad can it be?"

* * *

_The Atlantic City crowd exploded in fury as the young wrestler in the ring, along with his cohort, smacked the Undertaker in the back at full force with a chair._

_The Dead Man instantly bolted upright, as Shawn dropped the steal chair, grabbed Paul and ran out of the ring._

_As they did, an overwhelming thought crossed Paul's mind; _'This could be huge.'

...

_"Generation X always gets a bad rap," Shawn thundered through the Titantron to Bret Hart, the Canadian flag still half hanging out of his nose, "everyone calling us degenerates. D-Generation X, is that us? D-Generation X. Triple H, HBK, Chyna – we are D-Generation X. You make the rules and we will break them!"

* * *

_

Paul continued to wait anxiously for Shawn to answer, before the older man pushed his hair back between his fingers and sighed again.

"I've got a rematch. With 'Taker."

His jaw flying open to the ground, Paul felt the rest of his features brighten in surprise, "Wow, really?" he spoke in awe as Shawn nodded his head.

If there was one fight out of them all that truly headlined WrestleMania XXV, it was without a doubt the match between Mr. WrestleMania himself and the legendary – and at the time – 16 and 0 Undertaker. And although the Dead Man may have prevailed, taking him to seventeen straight wins at 'Mania, Paul couldn't even begin to imagine how huge the ultimate good versus evil rematch was going to be.

"Damn, Shawn, that's gonna' be the match of the century!"

"Yeah, you're telling me…" HBK reflected softly to himself.

Paul then sensed his brow furrow again in confusion as, evidently, Shawn's muse hadn't been as quiet as he anticipated, "What?" The Game probed.

Mentally Super-Kicking himself, Shawn hastily stood up and threw his ice pack down, "Nothing, don't worry, bud. C'mon, let's go to – "

"No, hang on a minute," Paul interjected, grabbing a hold of Shawn's shoulders. The Game forced his best friend to look him dead in the eye as Shawn awkwardly waited for Paul to let him go and say something.

"There's something you're not telling me," Paul proclaimed strongly.

Shawn fell back to a bleak silence. He should've known better to try and pull the wool over the Cerebral Assassin's eyes. The two knew each other better than they knew themselves. They were aware of every single fact there possibly was to know about each other. They had been through plenty of good times, and a whole lot of bad times together, and always came out standing side by side in the end. And it was for those exact reasons that Shawn couldn't bring himself to succumb to his confession.

"C'mon, Shawn," Paul urged, dropping his arms back to his side, "If you don't want me to know, then that's fine, but – "

"No," Shawn interrupted, snapping back to reality, "It's not that, it's just…" HBK allowed one final breath to inhale into his lungs, "there are particular… stipulations to the match."

Paul cocked an eyebrow, "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Well, if I win I get the streak – "

"Well, yeah," Paul interposed again, "That's a given."

" – it's no disqualifications."

"Ha," Paul barked at the thought of the Dead Man in a match with no rules, "well, it's your career."

Shawn suddenly froze at the words that spilled from Paul's mouth. He focused his attention back to the tiled floor below him and hurriedly sat back down. Paul watched in total and utter bewilderment as he tried to decipher the means of Shawn's strange behaviour, until, something abruptly came to him.

"Wait," he started nervously, "What does 'Taker get if he wins?"

The constant thudding of Paul's heart seemed to slow with every other minute detail of the dressing room and he waited for a response from his best friend. In the back of his mind, there were a million different answers swarming around, trying to get the most attention from The Game, but at that precise moment, Paul was only allowing himself to concentrate on one thing, and that was the look of extreme dismay that uncharacteristically was sprawled across Shawn's face.

After what felt like an eternity, Shawn lifted his head up.

"…My career."

In the immediate hush that had swept over the two men, Paul took a second or two to comprehend what Shawn had just told him, "So… you'd have to retire?"

Shawn nodded his confirmation, his head now re-facing the floor.

A chunk of panic sealed itself in Paul's throat, "Well, you're going to win, aren't you?"

Paul felt his patience begin to ware thin at the persisted silence.

"Shawn?" he snapped.

In the next second, Shawn shot his head up in slight aggravation and rigorously shook it, "I'm sorry, Hunter. It's time."

Paul blinked in disbelief and chuckled, "You're just messing with me, aren't you?"

The joking smile of denial stretched across his best friend's face caused Shawn to heave his shoulders in a shrug, "What do you want me to say, buddy?"

The tone of thorough seriousness that coated Shawn's voice slowly brought Paul's world to a stop as he felt all emotion crash down around him. The expression plummeted completely from his face as realisation firmly set in.

"What do I want you to say?" he repeated patronizingly, "I want you to say that you're seriously not giving up!"

Shawn stood up, "Hunter – "

"No!" Paul thundered, "The day you retire is the day that you can't kick your fucking leg above my head anymore, and not a second sooner!"

"Hunter!" Shawn called again, before Paul flung his icepack across the room and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

It took every ounce of self-control he could muster to not let a single tear escape the corners of his eyes as Paul marched, head down, up the corridor.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, and as Paul continued to power though the building, wherever he was going, that was what he kept telling himself. Out of all of the scenarios he had come up with over the years of how the night of his and Shawn's Unified Tag Team match would end, the circumstances he grimly found himself in had not even crossed his mind once. And if Paul had known just how much it would kill him inside to hear that his best friend was leaving him behind after all that they had been through together,

_'I never would've spoken to him in the first place…'_

_

* * *

_

_"Billy, Dogg. Shawn's left," Paul announced, "we, DX, really need you guys. DX is no good if it's just me..."_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Hey guys :) What did we think of the second chapter? I know in the last one I said this was only going to be a two-shot, but I've decided to stretch it out to three instead. My original one-shot idea was going to end after the boys won the Tag Championships, but I'm pretty happy it's turned out this way :)**

**I hope you enjoyed the random flashbacks, as well. I figured since there's such a massive time jump between the first and second chapter, the flashbacks would help anyone who wasn't really sure of how the DX story went down. Again, all those moments are directly from '_The Unauthorised History of D-Generation X_' so all that credit goes to where it's due.**

**I'll try to update as soon as possible, but I'm sure it'll happen faster if you leave a review ;)**

**Oh, and Tiger, if you're here, I promise I'll start writing again for Swash first :D Thanks guys!**

**Reneyyyyyyyy x.  
**


	3. That's The Breaks, Boy

**Chapter Three - That's The Breaks, Boy.**

* * *

"_Truthfully, I__'__m not in any kind of mind to make thoughtful decisions. I don__'__t know what makes sense to me at this point.__"_

_Paul stifled a poignant sigh at the harsh words that spilled from Shawn__'__s mouth as HBK readied himself to walk out on the World Wrestling Federation._

"_There__'__s a big void for me,__"__ Paul exclaimed,__ "__My best friend is no longer here.__"_

* * *

Slamming the arena door behind him, Paul swept his long, blonde locks out of his face and dashed over to where his car was parked. An abrupt breeze suddenly chilled his whole body to the bone as he fumbled with the keys that he had hurriedly grabbed on his way out of the arena. The second that he climbed into the vehicle, Paul instantly turned up the heater and reached over to the back seat to retrieve his jacket that was sitting there. While the truth stood that he had indeed been stupid enough to leave the San Antonio arena right at the beginning of winter in nothing but his black and green wrestling trunks, the extreme anger and feelings of shock he held towards Shawn could also undoubtedly be factored in.

The entire situation was completely and utterly unbelievable to him. Shawn was leaving. Shawn was _really _leaving, after twenty-four years in the business, he had actually decided that enough was enough. And even though the true reality of the whole circumstance was obviously yet to set in, Paul was certain that he couldn't accept it. And he never would.

Turning on the ignition and setting his car into drive, Paul hastily and angrily tore out of the stadium car park and sped onto the highway. Where was he going? He didn't know. Nor did he particularly care. All he could think about was those few simple words that had resonated from Shawn's mouth.

_I'm sorry, Hunter. It's time. _

Time? Time for what? To move on and forget about everything truly amazing that had happened to him in the past twenty-four years? To leave Paul behind? Paul could barely even remember what his life and career had been like before he met Shawn. He cringed with severe guilt every time he thought about all the horrible and judgemental things that he had said and assumed about HBK in the past. He had never been more wrong about anything in his entire life.

While all these thoughts continued to take up a swirling occupancy in his mind, a sudden brainwave burst into Paul's head from out of the blue. The Undertaker was someone else who knew about Shawn's retirement, obviously – after all, it was he who would be ending HBK's storybook career. However, this also meant that Vince McMahon had to know. In spite of everything else, he was the Chief Executive Officer of the WWE and had to sanction the match. But if Vince knew, then did that mean...?

Hastily reaching over and yanking open the glove box of his car, Paul racked around for his phone, before retrieving it and calling his number one speed dial. He waited impatiently as the dialler began to chime in his ear, dangerously swerving in and out of the traffic before him, until the ringing finally stopped as the person on the opposite end of the line answered the call.

"Hey baby! How are you? Your match was absolutely fantastic, congratulations!"

Ignoring the sweet, charming tone of his boss' daughter – also known as his beautiful wife – Paul suddenly opened his mouth to sharply cut Stephanie off, "Did you know about this?"

There was an abrupt pause as Stephanie fell to silence, "Know about what, babe?"

"About Shawn!" Paul thundered, "About Shawn and how he's quitting after Wrestlemania, how he's retiring!"

"What?" Stephanie cooed with sadness. Despite this impetuous reaction, however, once the horrendous accusation that her husband had made to her set its tone, Stephanie allowed her softly spoken voice to make a rapid change to an ambience of irritation, "Wait, why would you think I would even know about that, let alone keep it from you?"

"Because your dad is the one who has to sanction all the matches, but I never heard it from him, I only got it from Shawn _after _he told Mark about it first!"

"Mark?" Stephanie repeated, "What does the Undertaker have to do with this?"

"_Because _he's the one that Shawn's going out against. His last match ever and he doesn't even want it to be with me!" Paul expressed with severe dishearten, "Now, did you know about it, or not?"

"No!" Stephanie countered with a similar volume, before she brusquely stopped again and sighed, "No, and don't make me yell at you, Paul, I've just got the girls to fall asleep."

An impulsive wave of guilt immediately swept over Paul at the mere mention of his two daughters. He groaned ashamedly in himself and took a deep breath.

There was no denying how valuable Shawn's friendship was to him, but even so, it couldn't even begin to compare to the affection and deep, deep love he held for Stephanie, Aurora and Murphy. Sadly, and regrettably to Paul, it was just hard to remember that sometimes amongst the business he was in.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm so sorry, Steph. I just can't get my head around it. Shawn leaving. But I shouldn't take that out on you."

"It's fine," she replied with the upmost understanding and assurance, "And you know the only reason Dad wouldn't have told you is because Shawn wanted to say it to you himself."

Paul heaved another heavy breath, "I know, I know. Doesn't make me feel much better, though. I had a bit of an argument with him just now."

"A bit?" Stephanie questioned suspiciously, earning an ironic chuckle from Paul.

"Okay, maybe a big argument," he conceded. As he continued to concentrate on the road, Paul found himself in a deep, pondering silence. "I just don't know what to say to him."

Stephanie felt her heart sink at the longing, mournful tone in her husband's voice. Paul had never been one to find the worst in any situation, in fact, in all the time she had known him, she could only recall one other circumstance in which Paul had allowed himself to get so down and miserable. And yet, unsurprisingly, that particular incident had also involved an argument with Shawn.

"You will," she assured her man, "You just need to go and make up with him. You know the right words will come to you. I mean, you don't exactly have the option of avoiding him now, do you, Mr. Unified Tag Team Champion?"

Amazingly, a small smile managed to creep across Paul's face at the mention of his and Shawn's latest achievement. But that didn't make light of the fact that there was evidently still much more that The Game needed to discuss with his best friend.

"You're right," Paul agreed, "As always. Thanks baby. And I'm sorry. I love you."

Paul felt his heart flutter as his gorgeous bride sweetly sang back down the phone to him, "I love you too sweetheart. I'll see you soon."

"Give the girls a big kiss for me?"

"Of course," Stephanie answered in an instant, "Good luck with Shawn, baby."

A mere second or two later, Paul was left alone with his sombre thoughts again, looking down at his phone and craving the touch of his exquisite wife to take all his pain and despondency away. But he knew there was no easy way out of this one. Paul knew he had to talk to Shawn. Because, as history had only shown, when he didn't – that's when everything fell apart.

* * *

_The rest of DX stared on in anger at Paul__'__s proposal to turn and leave._

"_What do you mean __'__the opportunity is prime__'__?__"_

"_What do you want me to do?__"__ Paul asked with a shrug._

_X-Pac snorted with a sarcastic smile, __"__DX will go on without you. Me and the New Age Outlaws will write a new chapter in DX history.__"_

* * *

The immediate heat that swapped Paul from the ventilation ducts upon re-entering the San Antonio arena boiled his body back to a comfortable, warm temperature as he rolled the sleeves of his jacket up and slowly made his way down the corridor. The building was quiet, which was strange, because he didn't think that he had been out on the road for too long and assumed that there would still be other Superstars and Divas hanging around the locker room. Just as he began to think that maybe he was wrong and that he might have also missed Shawn without getting to talk things through, Paul suddenly froze as his best friend emerged from around the corner.

For a moment – the absolute briefest of moments – Paul could only stop and face Shawn with a small, almost invisible smile. The Heartbreak Kid was standing there dressed in a pair of jeans and a black, short-sleeved jacket with his favourite cowboy hat sitting perfectly on top of his head. In his arms he held all four Unified Tag Team championships, as well as his luggage _and_ Paul's, all packed up and ready to go. Hung over his shoulder was a pair of The Game's jeans and his joggers, the shoe laces tied in a loop.

Sighing in despondent guilt, Paul approached his friend, head facing the ground, "You didn't have to do that for me."

"Yeah," Shawn snorted in joking sarcasm, "'Cause you really know how to look after yourself."

As he took his bag, title and whatever else Shawn had of his, Paul couldn't help but feel that HBK was right. Paul had rushed out of the arena so fast and so recklessly that even where he stood, half of his fingers were still tapped up, his one knee pad was starting to make his leg itch and he could even feel his feet swelling from having his boots on for too long.

In another life, Paul may never have even known this caring, selfless side of Shawn. But even so, Shawn had always stayed the same person. Deep down, even bubbling on the surface, Paul knew that Shawn was still the same person that he had been back in the nineties – that person that was the polar opposite of how the young Game had perceived him to be. He just had a more acceptable hairstyle nowadays, as well as a more meaningful, rewarding way of life. But just because his new straight-edge, Christian lifestyle hadn't changed his personality, it didn't mean that his opinions hadn't changed.

Paul cleared his throat, "I'm sorry I swore at you."

Again, laughing in cynicism, Shawn patted Paul on the shoulder, "I think that's the least of our problems right now, buddy."

Then, without saying another word, Shawn briskly walked along the hallway, opened the arena door, and turned back to look at Paul, holding the exit open for him to catch up. Pausing in a fleeting instant of bewilderment, Paul hastily dropped his bag and pulled his jeans on before grabbing all of his belongings again and racing out the door towards Shawn.

The two continued along in silence as Paul swallowed nervously, still wondering not only what the hell he was ever going to say to Shawn, but whether Shawn was going to say anything at all to him. Eventually – and after what seemed like a lifetime – the two degenerates made their approach to Paul's car. Their plan was the same as it always was when they were working in San Antonio. They would finish a show, drive up to Shawn's ranch, stay there the night with his family and then head off again early the next morning. Paul just hoped that it wasn't going to be an awkward, tense, regrettable night.

"Now," Shawn suddenly spoke, snapping Paul out of his trance, "do you wanna drive, or shall I?"

Faltering again, Paul simply shrugged his shoulders and waved his friend off nonchalantly, "You can."

With a beaming smile immediately appearing across his face, Shawn caught Paul's car keys as he threw them to him and then skipped around to the driver's side, dumping his bag and title belts in the backseat as the younger man followed silent suit.

As he climbed into the passenger seat, all that Paul could think about was everything that he and Shawn had said to each other earlier that evening. How Shawn had seemed so anxious, so dismayed, but now he was almost as chirpy as ever. How he, Paul, had so much anger. So much heated, steaming, irrational, immediate anger. And now all he felt was absolute terror that the relationship he held with the closest friend he had ever had was going to fall apart.

"So?"

Once more, the sound of HBK's voice derailed Paul's train of thought, as The Game turned his head and set a slight gaze upon his friend, "So, what?"

"So," Shawn reiterated, "there's obviously much more you want to talk about other than just telling me I'm not allowed to retire?"

The mere mention of the word 'retire' instantly caused Paul to shift his vision away, blinding himself with the headlights of the oncoming traffic as Shawn continued to steadily drive along. Paul quietly huffed in annoyance, "You obviously don't seem to so anxious about it anymore. So, do what you want, I don't care."

"Hunter, this is me you're talking to," Shawn directly snapped back, "I feel _so _relieved to have finally got this off my chest to you, but I know it doesn't end there. You don't have to hold back, ya' know."

As he tried to get some sort of grasp of control on all the chaotic thoughts swirling throughout his mind, Paul sharply swallowed another lump in his throat and turned back to Shawn, muttering the lamest, yet truest, excuse he could muster, "I don't want you to go."

Shawn felt his heart ache with a searing, yearning burn at the words that spilled from his best friend's mouth. Still, he calmly drove along the highway, taking a deep breath in an attempt to better prepare himself for what may be to follow.

"Why now?" Paul went on.

"It's just time."

"Don't humour me, Shawn."

A twinge of guilt struck a chord within HBK, "Twenty-four years is a long time, Hunter. I'm just done. I've achieved all I've wanted to achieve, my back's not going to last forever, and I'm at peace with where I am in my life and in my career. It's just the right time to let go."

Paul remained motionless, still filled with an abundance of confusion, "There's got to be more to it than that?"

A sweeping hush fell between the two for a sheer second or so, before Shawn softly licked his lips and took another breath, "I miss home. I miss my family, my kids. I miss Cheyenne squealing and jumping on me every morning to wake me up – all that red hair gettin' in my face," he added with a chuckle as his face turned sombre once more, "Cam's almost ten now. I don't wanna' miss seeing my boy grow up, bud."

"Well what about me – uh… us? The WWE Universe, everybody?" Paul spat, quickly bringing his emotions to a halt.

Shawn grinned at the original question that had crossed his friend's lips as he turned to shoot a smug glimpse at Paul, "You mean everyone who's gonna' miss me?"

Biting his tongue, Paul stubbornly heaved his shoulders again and turned back to the window, "If that's what you want to call it, sure?"

Refraining with all his might from bursting into stacks of laughter, Shawn simply shook his head as he let his eyes fix back on the road in front of him. As he sat there, still, quiet and in the deepest possible concentration, a memory suddenly re-emerged to him. Out of the blue, triggered by he and his dearest of all friends driving down the long, never-ending highway. Shawn squinted as the whole scenario appeared to him in his mind like a painting.

It had been the middle of the day - a bright, blue, beautiful spring day, and he and Paul were driving down the road, talking the world away. And that's when they had gotten onto the topic of what was to happen in the end. The end of either of their careers. And on that bright, blue, beautiful spring day, Shawn and Paul made a promise to each other – as wrestlers, as friends, as brothers – that when the time came that either of them thought the other was done – he would stare him square in the eye and tell him; "It's time". Paul wasn't ever given the chance to do that. Shawn had decided for himself, and as he released himself from the flashback that had overtaken his whole psyche, the Heartbreak Kid gazed over at the other wrestler – his friend, his brother – and in an instant, received the clearest of understandings as to why Paul couldn't accept that Shawn's time had come.

"Hunter?" he mumbled, the most genuine affection coating his voice, "You're losing a co-worker, not a best friend. Everything will work out."

Paul blinked in staggering surprise as he, too, released all the thoughts that had been consuming him as he turned back to Shawn. In the brief silence that had passed by, Paul had been considering what Shawn had mentioned about his family – his kids. If there was one wish that he could have granted, more than anything, Paul wished that he could wake up to the beautiful, smiling faces of his girls more often than he did. But even as this fact stood, The Game still couldn't accept that Shawn wasn't going to be around anymore.

"Doesn't mean I'm not going to miss you," the younger man softly admitted.

Shawn smiled gently as he patted his friend on the shoulder, his eyes still glued to the road, "You know I'm going to miss you too." There was another pause as Shawn's small smile abruptly burst into an array of uncanny chuckles, "But it's not like we didn't have any fun, right?"

Forgetting all else about him at that point, Paul allowed himself to succumb to a cackle of happiness too, "Yeah, you can say that again, buddy." He shook his head in disbelief at how quickly the conversation between he and his best friend had turned, before another thought suddenly became conscious to Paul, "Why are you wearing your cowboy hat? It's eleven o'clock at night!"

* * *

_Shawn__'__s beaming smirk grew as he jumped around the ring, cleverly impersonating Shane McMahon, __"__I__'__m getting so excited, look Dad, I__'__m dancing, Dad, I__'__m dancing!__"_

"_SHUUUUTUP!__"__ Paul screeched, similarly imitating Shane__'__s father, Vince, __"__You want to play, pal? You want to dance? Well then, you and everybody else had better__…__ Stand Back!__"_

* * *

"It's a fashion statement!" Shawn teased back, "Like those shiny new title belts of ours! Ah, my friend, we will be starting trends all over the place!"

"You're right there," Paul blissfully agreed, gazing over his shoulder to the four gold, glimmering Unified Tag Team championships that sat comfortably on the back seat of his car. As he kept his vision fixed on them – those which he and Shawn had strived for throughout their entire career as a tag team – a sudden thought arose within Paul, one that struck the sourest of notes. He shifted his sight back to Shawn, then back to the championships, before setting his intense stare back on HBK again.

Furrowing his brow in disappointment, Paul cleared his throat once more, "We didn't just win those so we could have them before you leave, did we?"

Shawn's jaw dropped as he shot his imploring vision to Paul, "No! No, of course not, Hunter, I promise you. We won them because we've earned it, I've earned it, _you__'__ve _earned it."

The paranoid cogs in Paul's mind were beginning to rotate at full force again, "Wait, we didn't just reform DX again for the sake of one last run, or something, right?"

"Hunter!" Shawn sharply cut in, "Hunter, look…" HBK soon found himself trailing off as he stopped to think for a second or two, "You know how much I love doing this with you. DX revolutionised the whole Attitude Era – the whole WWE. And, yes, I did want to give it one more go before I left, but that's not the only reason I wanted to reform."

Paul remained wordless as he slowly allowed Shawn's explanation to sink in. It was quickly beginning to seem to him that no matter how many questions he asked or explanations he requested, he certainly was not going to be coming to peace or adjustment with Shawn's retirement any time soon.

"I wanted to reform because of how much gosh darned fun we have!" Shawn went on, "Because of how much of an honour it is to fight beside you, Hunter. You believe that, right?"

Paul swallowed. The seconds that ticked by as he sat in silence, mulling over his answer over and over again, seemed to drift by at the slowest possible rate. He could sense Shawn's imploring vision casting straight through him as the older man continued to switch between glaring at his friend and concentrating on the road.

The slightest drip of sweat began to run down Paul's forehead as he gently licked his lips, "I believe that you mean what you're saying... I'm not sure how I feel about Paul Levesque being such an 'honour' to fight beside..."

* * *

_Paul shrugged his shoulders despondently as he turned to Shawn, __"__I love Undertaker and you, but when you go out there and tear it up; I think to myself that I have to up my game.__"_

* * *

As at long last Shawn turned on his left indicator and slowly began to pull the car into the driveway of his ranch, Paul sat in frozen nervousness as he suspiciously gazed upon HBK who was sighing in what sounded like the most minor annoyance.

Taking his cowboy hat off and throwing it on the backseat, Shawn then racked his fingers through his long, blonde hair, "I'm not going to say this again, Hunter," Shawn huffed, "Stop being so ridiculous. You _know_ how good you are, and I'm not talking about Paul, I'm talking about Hunter Hearst Helmsley. About Triple H! Why do you think I'm the only one who calls you that?" Paul simply sat in a dull quiet, shrugging his shoulders and staring down at the wrestling boots that still graced his feet as Shawn continued to ramble on, "Because I know that's who you really are! Paul Levesque was the shy, shrimped down, little guy who awkwardly came shuffling over to Kevin Nash and I all those years ago. _Hunter_ is the strong, intelligent fighter who would take on a group of flamboyant, male cheerleaders to protect his best friend and throw Randy Orton out of his own living room window to protect his family! Hunter is my best friend. And you know once I'm gone you're just gonna' be just fine and keep getting better when you don't have me holding ya' down – "

"Shawn, you never – "

"Hunter!" Shawn spat, forced to snap back in over the top of The Game yet again. Taking a moment to console himself, Shawn turned off the engine of Paul's car and gaped up towards his front door, smiling in the most pure bliss when the front porch light suddenly turned on. Reluctantly coercing himself to turn away, he then took another deep breath and re-faced Paul.

"I know. I know neither of us is holding the other back, _that _was ridiculous," he admitted softly, "But I just need you to okay right now, okay, _Hunter_? It's not like this was an easy decision for me to make. There were so many different factors to take into consideration, and don't think for a second that you weren't one of them."

Gazing back up from his lap, Paul allowed a faint smile to cross his face at the kind and genuine words that flowed from Shawn's lips.

"But at the end of the day, this is the choice I made. And it's not even like we have to live with it straight away. 'Mania's still three months away."

"I know," Paul agreed.

"So! This is something we can deal with as time goes slowly on by, right, buddy?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Paul sighed and pushed his long locks out of his face similarly to how Shawn had, "I guess so."

Beaming softly at the younger man, Shawn placed a gentle hand on Paul's shoulder, "I'm sorry this came as such a shock to you, Hunter. The last thing I wanted was to cause an argument. But these next couple of months are all about you and me, okay? It's all about DX, and all about those titles."

Following HBK's gesture, Paul slowly turned around to face where the Unified Tag Team belts were sitting comfortably on the backseat of his car. The polished gold colour of the four of them mixed with the red and blue respective of each pair and gleamed back at The Game with all the honour and glory in the world. The fact that the four titles were finally in the possession of he and Shawn after twelve long years of tag team action still sent shivers up his spine. And as this sentiment continued to settle in the back of his mind, Paul turned back to his older friend, heaving another breath. If this was the final adventure the two were going to have as a tag team before Shawn's retirement, then wasn't it all going to be worth it for the two to end on such a positive, sweet sounding note?

"You're right," Paul declared tenderly, "You're always right."

Radiating a proud, goofy smile, Shawn nodded his head, "Well, I know that!" he barked, earning a teasing shove from Paul.

All of sudden, the two friends were forced to snap their heads up at the sound of the screen door of Shawn's house abruptly slamming shut. The two degenerates' eyes then fell upon the tender image of HBK's family standing on the front porch – Rebecca looking as beautiful as ever holding an incredibly sleepy Cheyenne in her arms, and Shawn's young, brunette son, Cameron, dressed in his pyjamas and dashing towards the car as fast as his legs could carry him.

With anticipation consuming his entire core to the brink, and his senses whirling around stir crazy with excitement, Shawn then spun around to calmly face Paul once more, licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak, "This last chapter is all about me and you, buddy. But in saying that, as much as you're always going to be one of the most important people in my life, the rest of my days are going to be all about them."

Trailing along Shawn's line of vision, Paul allowed his eyes to fix themselves upon the sight of the three people who he, too, has grown to love and care for deeply. Although, it was obviously nowhere near the amount of adoring affection that Shawn held for them. As Cameron's little legs continued to carry him as quickly as possible towards Paul's car, the younger degenerate couldn't help but wish that his family was there too. Not only so he could be with them, but also to help remind him that at the end of the day, no matter who was coming or going from his life, his wife and two princesses would always be the ones who would stick by him until the very end. And as this thought continued to linger on through Paul's mind, for the first time, he was actually beginning to understand where Shawn was coming from.

"But we can keep talking about this between now and 'Mania, right?"

Snapping out of his trance, Paul met his best friend's eyes, nearly flinching at the imploring vision that HBK sent shooting back towards him. But deep down in the chaotic pit of his stomach, Paul knew that Shawn was right, and for now, the only thing that the two could do was let things lie and then deal with them whichever way they decided to unfold in the coming months, together.

"Anything for you, bud," Paul concluded, his soft smile growing at the expression of pleasant surprise and relief that crossed Shawn's face, "Now, go on, don't keep your kids waiting!"

Before another single word could be spoken, Shawn swung open the driver's seat door of Paul's car at full force, until he took the briefest of moments to glance back at his tag team partner, "Ya' know I love ya', Hunter."

Rolling his eyes amongst an array of cynical chuckles, Paul playfully shoved Shawn out of the car, "Yeah, yeah, you're not retired yet! There's still plenty of time for all that mushy crap, Shawn."

Laughing off his best friend's sarcasm, Shawn finally made it out of Paul's car and dashed over to Cameron, lifting the small boy off his feet and swinging him around in the air before collecting him in a tight, affectionate hug. Paul watched on in silence, the most genuine of smiles gleaming across his face before he, too, stepped out of the car and shut the door behind him, suddenly being grabbed around the waist by a petite pair of arms.

"Uncle Paul!"

Looking down by his side, Paul grinned to discover that Cameron was now attached to him, and that Shawn had made his way to the front porch, holding his baby girl in his arms and sharing with his wife the most tender of kisses.

"What's up, Little Heartbreaker?" Paul exclaimed, reaching down and picking Cameron up for himself, "Hey, do you wanna' see the gold Daddy and I won tonight?"

As the young boy eagerly nodded his head, Paul giggled at Cameron's enthusiasm, then reached down and opened the backseat door of his car. Instantly, the shining gold colour of the title belts caught Cameron's attention.

"Whoa," he mumbled noiselessly.

Paul nodded in agreement, "Pretty cool, huh?"

"You know what's cooler?" Cameron immediately went on, "The way you held the ladder for Dad while he climbed up and grabbed them! That was, like, the awesomest thing I've ever seen! You guys are, like, the best team ever, hey?"

Faltering over his words, Paul gawked down at Cameron, the most genuine expression of pride, mixed in with a little disbelief, sprawled obviously across his features.

What the nine year old boy had just done was conclusively sum up all the incredibly positive factors of the night that Paul had been too angry and disappointed to see for himself. He and Shawn were _finally _the Tag Team Champs, and in doing so, they had purely embodied what every tag team in any wrestling brand should ever be about – team work. But most importantly, throughout it all, the two degenerates had done what they always had; they proved and further solidified themselves as one of the greatest and most prestigious tag teams in the entire history of the WWE. And now, not only did Paul feel a little ridiculous for not being able to realise that for himself, he also felt incredibly humbled to be able to say that he had a best friend who was able to raise such an intelligent and beautiful boy like Cameron.

Squeezing the boy in a tight hug, Paul smiled, "You got that right, Cam."

Bursting into a collection of giggles, Cameron then tried to playfully squirm and wrestle his way out of his Uncle Paul's firm grip until they were suddenly rejoined by HBK.

"Okay, come on now, Little Man," Shawn announced, "There'll be time to play in the morning, I think it's time for you to go to bed, don't you?"

"But Dad…" Cameron whined to his father with a pleading tone.

"No buts," Shawn lightheartedly cut in, "the only but will be your butt getting into bed, now off you go."

Groaning out a long, annoyed "fine", Cameron then exchanged a quick hi-five with Paul before jumping out of his arms and running back to the house where Rebecca and Cheyenne were waiting for him. Shawn looked on at his son with a devoted and loving smile, and then turned back to Paul, giving his comrade a friendly slap on the arm, "Come on then, bud, let's get these bags into the house."

Nodding his head in silent agreement, Paul then slowly brought his senses back to life as he began to help HBK with all of their luggage. By this stage of their night, Paul was sort of hoping that his mind would have settled into a nice, easy and relaxing thought pattern. One that brought all the events of the evening to peace within him. Winning the Tag Titles, learning about Shawn's retirement, and then, consequently, getting into an argument with him about it. But, alas, Paul's thoughts were more frenzied and present than ever.

It was beyond clear that these next few months before Shawn's final match would be difficult to deal with. However, thanks to Cameron, he also knew that ultimately he had to take the bad with the good and focus purely on all of Shawn and his best memories – the memories that made the two of them who they were today. But above all of that, most importantly, Paul now truly had realised how valuable his friendship with Shawn Michaels was, as well as the fact that he could never have been more wrong about the assumptions he had made of HBK all those years ago before being confronted with the most significant dream of his entire life. And he would be sure not never forget it. Or make Shawn doubt for a second about how he felt.

"Hey, Shawn?"

Whipping his blonde ponytail around, Shawn gazed back at Paul from where he stood on the front steps of his porch, holding his bags and his titles, "Yeah, Hunter?"

Sighing in happiness, all Paul could do was smile. These next few months were certainly going to be a crazy ride.

"I love you, too, man."

* * *

_Paul winced as his doctor carefully strapped up his throbbing quadricep, __"__I__'__m going to be out for a while, so this run of DX is pretty much over.__"_

_A faint smile crossed Shawn__'__s face as he looked down at his friend, __"__We__'__re so hot at this point that I__'__m gonna' keep coming out to the DX theme. But there__'__s no thought of bringing someone in to replace you.__"_

_The touching words from HBK caused Paul to instantly grin, beaming through all the physical pain he felt taking over him, __"__I think the other guys will probably all get mad about what I__'__m going to say, but to me, DX was always you and me.__"_

_A brief moment of silence fell over to two men as Shawn reached out and patted Paul on the shoulder. The younger friend sighed happily as he continued to smirk,_

"_So for better or worse, the world is stuck with you and me forever.__"_

* * *

**Wazzzzuup! This story is finally finished! :) I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, what did you all think? :)**_  
_

**It was so much fun to write this story as I am absolutely obsessed with DX and I miss Shawn like craaaazy, and I'm also happy to have it all neat and tidy and finished for you all before the boys reunite next week on RAW 1000! :D Obviously, no-one really knows what went down between HBK and his peers, especially Hunter, after he announced his retirement, but this was just my little spin on it that I saw fit considering how close they are with each other :D Plus it's cute, and I like cute :)**

**Anyways, as always, all these little fun facts and flash back moments are legit and come from the boys' auto-biography '_The Unauthorised History of D-Generation X_' which if any DX fan hasn't read by now definitely should because of its pure amazingness!**

**Thank you all for reading, I will be back atcha sometime soon with a new WWE story that has come to me in the past couple of days, so stay tuned! :)**

**Till next time guys,**

**Reneyyyyyyyy x**


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